Working up an appetite
by Zora Arian
Summary: Established relationship, random one-shot -as usual-. Molly and Sherlock take a stroll before dinner and Molly suggests playing tag to work up an appetite. "I always chase after criminals; why do I have to chase after you as well?"


**HALLO READERS! Sincere 'Thank You's for taking an interest in my various one-shots: reading, reviewing, favouriting and following (umm, I don't exactly understand why you follow one-shots…) them. It's been a great time, thinking up random situations for my favourite pairing Sherlolly to be in :3 Still, I pray that they're not terribly OOC. If they are, oh god, please tell me! ~Oh, PS. All of you are aware that so far, I still don't own Sherlock, right? Just, uh, checking, cos I noticed my one-shots have no disclaimers on them.~ Anyway, onwards with this story? :DDD**

* * *

It was a lovely Tuesday evening for a walk before dinner. Molly particularly love evenings as the sunsets happen then, and sunsets are tranquil events from Nature that mix the colours orange, red and yellow in the sky to become a sight to behold. She also love evenings because they are cooling, in contrast to warm afternoons, and streetlamps will be turning themselves on soon, bathing the London streets in artificial lights, and-

"Can't we just go to the restaurant now?"

-Sherlock is keen on eating.

Molly sighed. "Sherlock, we need to work up an appetite, you know," she said, bringing her arms and legs into a jogging motion.

"I'm all 'worked up'. Just finished a double homicide, in case you've forgotten," he replied, his hands reaching out to stop her ridiculous actions because people were starting to stare.

"Mentally. But physically? You'll gorge the moment the food arrives and after that, no exercise. Not healthy!" Molly was still amazed at the amount of food the man could fit into his stomach after a singularly difficult case. True, 'digestion slows me down', so no eating while on a case, which was of course already bad for his health, but the after part, well…nothing could slow **him** down when it comes to eating.

"I'm fit!" he frowned, looking down at his trench coat-clad body.

"Fit doesn't necessarily mean healthy, and if you're not healthy, it'll affect your mental capabilities."

A year ago, if it was John who said that, Sherlock would roll his eyes and ignore him for the next hour. But now with Molly, her concern for his health had rubbed off on him and he found himself becoming more conscious of what he eats and does, for it was rather true that the rare times Sherlock ended up sick, his mind could not work at all.

"Fine, Doctor Hooper," he poked her forearm, "what do you suggest I do to 'work up an appetite'?"

"How about a little exercise?"

"Before dinner? No." Sherlock never liked the idea of exercise before eating. Granted, he did not often eat, but when he does, he vaguely remembers that the calories you (might) burn from 'exercising before eating' would likely be very less compared to what you are about to consume, so really, would there even be a difference?

"Yes," Molly insisted, then clapped her hands, "let's play tag!"

**What?** "No," came his immediate reply.

"But it doesn't require much to play tag," she said, stopping by the side of the walkway to allow others to move past her.

Sherlock stood beside her, arms crossed, and frowned again. Molly seemed to be in a childish mood tonight.

"Come on, it'll be fun! You need some fun once in a while!"

He did not budge.

"Please?" Molly clasped her hands together and looked up at him.

Sherlock felt his resolve breaking and finally gave in. If he were to have just one weakness, it would be Molly's eyes, full of warmth and happiness whenever she was around him. "Fine," he tried to recover whatever pride he had left by rolling his eyes, "where do we begin?"

"Rock paper scissors first!"

No doubt about it, she **was** childish tonight.

Wanting to get it over and done with, Sherlock played with her, and lost, paper to scissors. Before he could try to rationalise his loss and do another round, Molly declared him the tagger of the game.

He gave her a blank look.

Molly scrunched up her nose. "You do know how to play tag, right?"

Offended at that, Sherlock glared at her. "Yes, I do."

"Then what's the problem?"

"Not exciting enough."

"You're going to chase after me. Adrenalin will pump into your system soon; won't that be exciting enough?"

"I always chase after criminals; why do I have to chase after you as well?" he retorted, folding his arms in front of him once more.

Molly tucked in a stray hair behind her ear and regarded him. "You're sulking because you've lost."

Sherlock gave it a thought before answering, "Maybe."

"Seriously? Whatever, we are still going to play tag," Molly finalised.

She put her hands on her hips and took a few steps backwards and to her left, thinking. Then she voiced out her suggestion, "Well, why don't you, umm, think of me as a criminal? You know, the baddest of the bad…after Moriarty, of course… Anyway, think of me as, uh…a murderess? Who has murdered more than 10 people in the last two weeks, and after each murder, I leave a sort of riddle card for the police to solve? I don't know… So, criminal?"

She shook her head at her poor suggestion and looked back at Sherlock, then stared. The black part of his eyes seemed to be bigger than just now…

Without warning, he lunged forward. Since Molly had moved backwards, she had managed to put some distance between them. She quickly turned around and sprinted off, realising that Sherlock had taken to her suggestion and was now playing tag with her.

Hah, who knew she had to be a criminal to play tag?

* * *

It had been a minute of running through the night crowd on the pavement, pushing past people and apologising, Sherlock hot on Molly's heels. Hearing his footsteps behind her fueled her intent on escaping from him and she ran as fast as her legs in black flats could take her. She laughed happily and felt like her younger self once more when playing tag with her father. She had been feeling like channeling her inner child ever since she found her primary school diary that afternoon, but she could not because…well, look at her. But it would be the end of the day soon, and she still felt like being a child, so playing tag not only got Sherlock to exercise before dinner, but also she got to be childish; so as the phrase goes, she had just 'killed two birds with one stone'. …well, not that she would ever attempt to kill a bird, nonetheless two. She could not even aim properly, years of crushed paper balls missing the wastepaper basket evidence of it.

Molly looked behind her and immediately slowed her pace when she could not see the familiar curly head or a long billowing black coat. She chuckled to herself, liking the idea that she had managed to lose Sherlock, and faced forward, bumping nose-first into the chest of someone.

Someone who had curly black hair and was wearing a long black coat, with the collar turned up.

Molly stared in surprise, rubbing her slightly sore nose while Sherlock gave a smug smirk. Then he leaned forward and planted a kiss on her rosy cheek. "I caught you," he whispered, his breath hot on her cheek.

"Y-you're suppose to say 'tag, you're it'," she corrected him, struggling to breathe after the exhausting run.

His hand snaked to her waist as he said, his mouth now near her ear, "But I was chasing a criminal. You escaped from me for a moment there."

Sherlock leaned back and gave a smile, a mischevious glint evident in his eyes. "Looks like I'm going to have to punish you for that."

Despite being around him much more often now that they were together, he still managed to say some things that made her blush.

Worried he would continue with this line of talk (he could manage an hour of it if the mood takes him), she hastily changed the subject, "So, uh, you hungry?"

The change from mischevious to normal Sherlock was, for lack of a better word, comical. His eyebrows rose up and he turned around, taking her hand and pulling her towards the restaurant located conveniently around the corner, where he had made reservations earlier on. "Yes, I'm hungry. We must hurry; the caviar must have dwindled in number by now, and I intend to eat six of them tonight."

"Really, Sherlock. Your appetite amazes me," Molly giggled.

Sherlock held the glass door open for her to enter, the glint coming back in his eyes. "Well, I do need the energy to punish you later on."

Molly could not hold back the blush attacking her face.

**Okay, I'm sorry if they're way too childish here, or OOC. But I like it, so it's staying :)**


End file.
